Redemption
by sachi-sama
Summary: War is never easy, but sometimes it's necessary. Truly, history has been repeated too often to count. But could the fate of a nation change? Sometimes it's best to do what's right, even if it's not always in plain black and white. UkUs, GerIta, Franada.
1. Chapter 1

_Dun duuuunnnn… Dun duuuuuunnnn… DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN! *Jaws music* Here I am! I was listening to music on my phone, and then my mind wandered, like it always does, and I was hit in the face with an idea for a new story! I mean, I already have two going, but one is about to be finished anyway, so I figured I'd go ahead and start another! I wanted to write a story with more of the characters. Many of you asked me in my other fics about France, Germany, China, Italy, Russia, Japan, so on and so forth. Well, they're all going to be in this one! Contain your excitement, please! This isn't really going to be a happy story. As a matter of fact, it's not really going to be happy at all. I love Hetalia. I really do. I love the comedic aspects of it, but I'm doing this more realistically. This will be about WWII, and that war wasn't anything funny at all. (Though the show makes it so much better, haha.) So once again, we're gonna get all dramatic here! Let's get started!_

_**Disclaimer: **__UGH. I don't own the characters. I really don't. They came here of their own will though, so I feel that should entitle me to something. But you know, whatever. On with the story!_

* * *

_The Sun_

Germany sighed as he stared over the farmland of his beloved country. He had known it would be inevitable, but still, he had hoped things would turn out differently.

His faith had told him the people would prevail, but his instincts knew there was worse yet to come. The injustices done to him and his people after the Great War were great, and there was no way the terms of _The treaty of Versailles _could be met. How were they to pay any money they did not have? Yes, it seemed France and Great Britain had thought this through, and simply wanted to humiliate he and his people, kick Germany while he was down, and _hold_ him down.

But Germany was never one to give up so easily.

No, things were about to change. And they were going to change quickly. A man named Adolf Hitler had come to power, and he was promising a quick fix to all of Germany's problems. Of course that's what everyone wanted to hear, and any idea of another way was welcomed. Still, he wished it hadn't led to war. The people were all calling for a revolution, screaming about France, about the Jews, and about inflation. They wanted everything to change, but they wanted instant gratification. Instead of talking things out, they wanted to make waves.

And Hitler was the one splashing the most.

The Nazi's had overthrown the German army, and the war had been started long ago. Germany was at war with half the world, it seemed, and things were only going to get worse before they got better.

But he had to be strong for his people, as every nation had to, and he knew this war would change everything. He forced himself to believe their great nation was moving in the right direction, and the Nazi party would restore their reputation, while striking fear in the hearts of those around them. Yes, things could only get better.

And now that Japan had provoked America into the war as well, things would get more interesting too, Germany decided as he signed the declaration of war against America. The sun was painting the sky almost every color found on an artist's pallet, and he longingly watched the peaceful scenery outside, before he turned his sights back to the task at hand. Interesting was a good thing, right?

After all, if things were going to change, it would be better to be entertained.

* * *

_Sachi: Shortest. Intro. EVER. Okay, my dears, here's a basic rundown. Every chapter we will be flip-flopping between Axis and Allied powers. I've never done this in a FF before, so we'll see how it turns out, but I think it'll be okay._

_Germany: Oh mein Gott. I'm in one of your stories._

_Italy: Me toooooooooo~~!_

_Japan: Mmm._

_Sachi: This is an Axis chapter, even if it was only Germany. So, welcome to the new story! Next chapter will add dialogue, so bear with me._


	2. Chapter 2

_Long break, huh? My other stories were a bit more pressing, and I'm trying to finish _Devour_ before I get into the bulk of this story, so forgive me! We're starting slow anyway, right?! I actually tweaked it a bit, and I'm changing this to a nation story. I was going to make them human, and play a little more into history, but I already did that with this fandom twice now, and I'd like to try my hand at writing them as the nations they are in _Hetalia_. So, lemme give this love real quick… __Quiet. Crash__, yes, they will suffer. You know me too well! __fiothepanda__, I'm glad! I love war themes too, oddly enough, haha. I'm not sure how long this story will be, since I'm aiming to make the chapters longer, and the number of chapters shorter, but I doubt it will exceed seven or more chapters. Alright, let's move into the plot, shall we? On with the story!_

* * *

_The Declaration_

**_"Meeting Franklin Roosevelt was like opening your first bottle of champagne; knowing him was like drinking it." – Winston Churchill_**

There was the usual stuffiness in the air.

Each of them were going about their business, stating their current positions in their own separate battles, and most of all, acting as if they liked each other, because they were allied. Yes, the first Great War had been trifling, and it had felt as hopeless as this one was beginning to feel, but there was a difference in the nature of the motive this time. Germany was beyond pissed off, and rightly so, due to the incredulous demands of _The Treaty of Versailles_, and so this was _not_ just about domination. Indeed, this was about revenge.

England had thought the entire treaty much too rough of Germany at the time, but the initial key seemed to be to keep him down, and prevent a future crisis, so of course he signed it, hoping that would be the end of the entire ordeal. He did not take the same sick pleasure France took in humiliating the brawny nation, but he had hoped being made into a fool would at least teach a small lesson. Alas, the very scenario the treaty was meant to prevent was happening, and the document had done nothing but add fuel to the flames. Now, all of Europe was on the chopping block, and their ideas were running low. Despite all of the efforts in the Great War- the war that was meant to _end_ all wars- it seemed even past alliances were not going to prove helpful this time.

Russia was helping simply because Germany had invaded him, and it had proved in his best interest to join the Allied cause…at the time. China had only recently joined. He had already been at war with Japan, and after the most recent attack, had also thought it best to join. America… Ah, that was another story.

America, too, had felt the treaty took things too far, and had promptly refused to sign the document. He had explained his view on the topic, stating he and his citizens would simply remain isolationist, and would rather not get re-involved in foreign affairs. He had said the treaty would only point Germany's loaded guns at him, and drag him into further conflicts he had no business in. After all, he had only gotten involved in the first war because his own citizens were killed in Germany's attack on the British ocean liner _RMS Lusitania_.

Still, England had hoped going to his former colony and asking for assistance in another potential Great War would show America just how bad off things were on his end. As prideful as he was, England _never_ asked for help, and certainly if given a choice, he would not ask his former charge. Certainly, America looked shaken by the act, but his stance was the same. There was a state of unrest in his country about getting involved, and the main consensus seemed to be remaining neutral.

_"Not to mention," _he had added shakily after meeting England's icy glare, _"I'm not leaving you hanging. I will send you what I can, but I will not be sending troops."_

Yes, that statement had made the outlook on the war bleak for Great Britain, because he was losing more than he had to give already, and Germany was bombing him mercilessly. At that point, he wasn't sure what the outcome would be, but he knew it wouldn't be good.

Then, along came Japan, who decided to take it upon himself to attack America despite his neutrality. None of them had seen it coming, quite honestly, and England was still certain Japan hadn't expected the repercussions that followed. Both he and America had declared war on him less than two days after it happened, and three days later, Germany and Italy had declared war on the once-neutral United States. This had been the attack that pushed China to join the Allies, and _this_ meeting was to brief everyone on the war effort, including America- who still wasn't there.

It was…unusual to say the least. England had been with him when they declared war on Japan together, but they hadn't exchanged words over the topic. What was there to be said? Nothing could have taken back Pearl Harbor, and the British Empire was never one to comfort. If anything, he would have said it was to be expected, and since America was so eager to become a nation in the past, he should have expected as much. It was probably for the best he had stayed silent. His sharp tongue was known for rubbing salt into wounds, as France had told him often, and he didn't want America to be more upset than he already was. Still though, he was idly concerned with the absence of the newest member of The Allies, since the meeting was over halfway over.

Then, when France was suggesting they end the meeting early because he was tired, and England put a fist into his side, the door opened, and America walked in. He looked positively haggard, and not at all like the cheery young man they all knew so well. Normally he was offering his half-witted optimism no matter what the situation was, but this time he remained straight-faced, and slid into the chair beside Canada, who placed a hand on his shoulder knowingly. England observed as the twins exchanged a small glance, and America gave a wry smile of assurance to the more worried of the pair. They weren't exactly as close as they had been when they were younger, but they did care for one another- despite any grudge Canada claimed to have.

"Ah, Amérique_, _how nice of you to show your lovely face," France said, breaking the silence. "Of course you would choose to show up late enough to make you the center of attention. It is your forte, no?"

"I was talking to Roosevelt," America offered. "This is my official first day as a member of the Allies, after all. He was briefing me on everything going on, since this is my war too now."

England hadn't missed the implications of the young nation's sentence. It was his war too _now_. He knew all too well how bitter America had to be. Still, as sad as it was, England was not upset by the turn of events. Certainly, he wished circumstances were different, and the younger nation hadn't had to suffer an attack, but he was…_glad_ to have more support, since he had asked for help only a week ago. He was almost positive the sandy blonde had to know it too. It wasn't exactly anything less than obvious.

_"You give him far too much credit, Angleterre," _France had said after their declaration of war on Japan. America had left rather abruptly, and England allowed France to drag him to a bar without much hesitation. _"You are very obvious about it. Surely he knows how much you are placing on his shoulders."_

_ "It was never my intention to drag him into such things, but now things are different, and I need his help. It's not easy for me either, you frog-faced bastard."_

_ "Alcohol brings out your inner pirate, no? You are hardly your gentlemanly self when drunk!" _France had laughed good-naturedly, used to the insults.

_"Sometimes it's hard to keep that mask on," _England said wistfully. _"I truly am terrible, aren't I? I almost feel as though I should send Japan a thank you gift. He has saved me, and has no idea."_

_ "You are no more terrible than you have always been, Angleterre."_

_ "Yes, I am. I spent so much time trying to protect America from the world. I thought…maybe if I shielded him, made him mine, perhaps he would not want to be like we Europeans are. You and I both knew this war was inevitable, and we also know it won't be the last to come, because we thrive in war. We always have. I, myself, am an empire now because of it, and my pavements are soaked in the blood of other nations. It is part of my history, part of _Europe's _history. But America… I did not want him in the last war, but I was grateful for his help. This time, though. This time I am happy. Do you not see, France? I am happy he is at war, and that is why I am terrible."_

* * *

"Germany?" a timid voice asked from behind the bedroom door. Said nation looked up from the map of England he had rolled out over his desk to see Italy standing with a pillow in his arms, looking very tired.

"I thought you said you were going to bed," Germany said, returning to his map. He heard the footsteps across the floor and knew Italy had moved closer, as he always did.

"I did go to bed! B-But I got cold. I thought you were coming with me?"

"No, I never said such a thing. I told you to go to _your_ bed. You can't sleep in mine every night, you know."

There were more footsteps as Italy moved even closer, and Germany finally looked up to see golden eyes open for a change, focused on the map as well. He knew Italy didn't like talking about the war, despite declaring himself Germany's ally, which led to the question of why he wanted to get involved at all.

"I'm still sad that Russia left us," the redhead said after studying the map in silence for a few moments. "But you turned your back on him after all."

Germany glared up at him, his blue eyes icy.

"What are you suggesting? Russia would have stabbed me in the back the first chance he got, and you know it. He was never on our side, Italy, just as he is not truly on the other side now. The only side he is on is his own, and I got him before he could get me."

Italy gave him a sad glance, and then placed the pillow on the floor, deciding instead to place his arms around Germany's neck and cuddle close from behind.

"I did not mean to make you upset. I didn't trust him either, and I am glad he did not do anything to hurt you. Why do you not wish to sleep with me tonight? You had no objections last night, and I do think it would bode well for you to dream of something other than war."

"War is all I can dream of now until we can win. Japan has made things more difficult now, bringing America into the war. England was bad enough already, but I was finally getting him where I wanted him. The Fuhrer is delighted still at all the American deaths, but I think he is forgetting how bad it was for us last time that hamburger loving asshole decided to save the world."

"Last time you didn't have me and Japan!" Italy said brightly. "Did I tell you I made him spaghetti last night? He tried to eat it with sticks! Can you imagine such a thing?" Germany cracked a rare smile and gave the redhead a small pat on the head.

"I am grateful to have an ally such as Japan," he said. "But you are more of a pet than an ally."

"Hey! Don't be such a stupid face!"

Germany shook his head, and began circling more locations on the map of England. Italy observed for a little longer, before he placed a kiss on the blonde's head, and then bent over to pick up his pillow.

"Why were you speaking of Russia anyway?" Germany asked when the smaller man reached the door.

"No reason!" Italy chirped brightly, blanching at the skeptical look sent his way.

"Italy."

"I was…concerned. Are you going to turn your back on me as well? I'm not even as strong as Russia is."

Germany sighed and folded up the map, crossing the room to the other nation.

"Let's go to bed. You can…sleep with me if you want."

* * *

America remained quiet through the entire meeting, and England couldn't help but find it a little…_endearing_. To the others, it must have seemed very out of character, but the British Empire knew better. He had raised America, after all, and he knew all too well how the younger nation acted when he was either grieving or pouting. This was most likely a combination of the two. Grieving, of course, for his lost men, and pouting for getting involved in something he had vowed not to. It was _very_ America, at least for the moment.

At the end, Russia was the first to stand, offering his arm to China, who rolled his eyes and all but fled from the room. It was not unnoticed that Russia followed after him, though at a much slower pace. France turned to England and shrugged an arm over his shoulder.

"Shall we go and grab a quick glass of wine, _mon ami_?" he asked. England merely narrowed his gaze, and turned towards America and Canada.

"Do you think I'll be given the silent treatment until the bloody war is over?" he asked bitterly.

"Ah, I do not think he is offering a silent treatment. His wound is fresh, dearest _Angleterre_. I do wonder where on his body the injury is though."

"It would be rather rude for you to ask."

"But aren't you always saying I'm rude anyway? You cannot blame me for being curious! He bares the least scars of us all! Well, he and Canada, of course. It has been a long time since I have seen a fresh wound in a nation. To us, it is simply another scar already, for Europe has been at war since the beginning. But those two; they are not like us."

"I am aware."

England watched as France headed toward the twins, hugging Canada from behind and placing his chin on the meek nation's shoulder.

"Ah, Amérique_, _I hope you do not mind if I take your darling brother with me. This meeting was dreadfully boring, and I need to…relieve tension, if you understand."

America glared up at him as Canada turned bright red and elbowed the older nation in the stomach with a cry of, "Have you no shame?!"

"Yeah, you guys go ahead," America said while France coughed at the sudden blow to the gut. He stood from his chair and went towards the door, but was intercepted by England.

"I was going to go home and have a few drinks. Are you thirsty for some brandy?" he asked the younger nation. To his surprise, America nodded, and allowed himself to be led out of the room. As their shoulders brushed, England could sense the amount of stress the sandy blonde was under. It was like being under a boulder, waiting to be crushed. He knew how it felt, or at least how it used to feel. The weight of war was never easy, but he was so used to it by now it almost felt weightless. America could still feel it, and hopefully he would never get as used to it as the older nations were. England still wished that, even if he was glad to have the help in this war.

"Take a seat, lad. I'll fetch you a glass," he said when they reached his house. America sat in the armchair in front of the fireplace where the coat of arms rested above. It was a rather large tapestry, and the sandy blonde couldn't help but admire the white unicorn and gold lion as he always had. He had always laughed at the unicorn in the past, saying it was just like England to have some mythical creature on something so important, and he was surprised there were no fairies.

"Admiring that again, are we?" England asked when he returned, placing the glass on the table. "I suppose it _is_ better than being stared down by an eagle all the time."

"That eagle is a symbol of freedom, so I'm not surprised you wouldn't appreciate it," America muttered as he picked up his glass. The older nation sighed and sat across from him.

"Are we not going to be civil?"

"I'm being civil."

"You think me a fool? I know when you are moping about. I admit I haven't seen it for quite some time, but you were never very good at hiding your emotions."

America sat his glass down with more force than necessary, making some of the liquid fly onto the table.

"I have a right, don't I? This isn't like before when I was fighting going to bed early or pitching a fit so you'd read me another story! Dammit, England, it's bad enough that I have to go back to war with that psycho Germany, but you-!" He paused for a second, and then placed his head in his hands, exhaling deeply. "You're so fucking glad about it that it makes me sick…"

"Yes, I am glad. Very glad, I admit."

America gave a shaky sigh, and then looked up again to the knowing gaze of the older nation.

"I guess I'm being unreasonable, right? I know this isn't your fault, even if you did declare war first along with France. You crazy Europeans and your wars."

England drained his glass and reached for the bottle, humming knowingly as he poured.

"I do agree we are very different, you and I. Let's keep it that way, shall we? Drink up lad- it helps."

America did just that, throwing it back like a shot and slamming the glass down to signal he wanted more. England obliged, not caring whether the younger got drunk or not, as long as they didn't end up in a shouting match over nothing _again_.

"I still can't believe you declared war so fast. Was it so hard to talk things through without guns blazing?"

"It is when your opponent is Germany. He is angry beyond all reason," England sighed.

"He has a right, wouldn't you say? Even you said that treaty was crazy."

"It was, it was. Still, that should not make reason leave the equation entirely. Surely Germany knew his actions would provoke another war, so the blame is his. It matters not who joins to fight the fire, it only matters who started it. Would you not agree?"

"I guess so," America shrugged, his speech beginning to slur as he drained his second glass. "But you have been known to hold a nasty grudge yourself."

"I beg to differ."

"Dude… You joined like three wars just to get back at France. Those didn't even concern you!"

"I was young! Besides, that's neither here nor there. I only fight now if it's in the best interest for my people, same as you, and I am glad to have you here, _not_ glad you were hurt. Surely you knew it upset me too? I could never let anyone else hurt you so and get away with it. That is why we slammed those declarations on Japan's desk together."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Perhaps a little, but at least it makes me honest. I know you feel betrayed by Japan, right? You and he were friends for a bit."

"You were his friend too."

"Things change, poppet. Things change. I was also friends with Germany once before, and I've fought with France more times than I can count, but he and I have allied in the past two wars. You and I weren't even speaking much until The Great War, and we used to be inseparable. I've learned many things in my years, and my status as an empire has only made me realize it more. There is only one truth to live by. Do you wish to know it?"

"The almighty _holier than thou_ British Empire is gonna share his secrets of success with me?" America grinned, his cheeks flushed to show he was indeed drunk. "Yeah, tell me. You might not tell me again when you're sober."

England smiled and leaned forward. "The truth, America, is that in the end, you'll end up alone anyway. Everyone leaves eventually. Nothing else matters."

"Don't say that!" America cried, much more emotional than usual due to the alcohol in his system. "That's horrible! There has to be something else to existence, otherwise what's the point in making so many friends?"

"I do believe it's almost time for you to sleep, America," England said, realizing he didn't want an overly emotional and very drunk America sobbing on him for the entire night. The sandy blonde nodded, and stood up, stumbling a little. He began unbuttoning his uniform after he removed the bomber jacket, and the older nation couldn't help but look at the fresh wound as it hit the air.

It wasn't large, but it seemed to be very deep. England wondered idly why it wasn't wrapped in bandages, but then he realized it had probably never even occurred to the dense younger nation to do so. He approached America, and lightly ran his fingers over the wound, tracing the edges. The sandy blonde didn't react at all, and England wondered for a moment if he had felt it at all for a moment.

"It still stings," America whispered. "Every now and then, it just hurts. I mean, I brought that asshole out of his little shut-in world and this is how he repays me?! Damn him to hell! I'll get him back, I swear I will."

"Shh, love. Let's not talk of revenge right now. I don't like you talking in such a way. Come on now, finish getting undressed for bed."

"'M gonna sleep in your bed, kay?"

"You usually do. Ever since you were little, you know. I used to lie awake and listen to you sneaking into my bed, thinking you were clever and quiet. I never could kick you out though. France says I spoiled you too much."

"Heh… I like your stories," America replied as he clumsily starting climbing the stairs. "Did I ever tell you that when I was small?"

"Yes, you did," England smiled as he helped him up the stairs, not nearly as drunk as the younger nation for once. "You used to tell me all the time, back when you were cute."

They reached the bed, and America face-planted ungracefully into the pillows, not bothering to remove his pants. England huffed at him, and set to take them off for him, listening as the sandy blonde muttered little drunken sentences while struggling to stay awake.

"'M glad to be with you…" he said quietly as he lifted his hips helpfully to help in the removal of his pants. "Even with all this shit goin' on… Least 'm with you…"

"Silly fool. You have no clue what you're saying. Sleep now, America," England said as he removed his own shirt and revealed his scars to the night air. He observed as blue eyes looked up at him sleepily, taking in his bare chest as he turned to find a nightshirt.

"'M gonna prove you wrong about that alone thing," America said as his eyes closed. "I have to. I don't…don't like thinking of being alone… I don't like it."

England chuckled as he traced the scar on his chest. It wasn't his worst, and it wasn't the deepest, but it hurt more than any other he had ever received. It was placed right above his heart, and it throbbed for almost a century after he had received it. Even presently, it would ache every now and then.

"Of course you don't like it, America," the older nation whispered as he crawled beside the younger and pulled him close. "It was you who taught me that, after all."

* * *

_ Sachi: WHEW, man, what a monster of a story this is turning into. It's been a while since I've written such a long chapter for anything! I REALLY love WWII though, if you can't tell. I was a huge nerd in school about it, and I still am now. I mean, every war is pretty terrible, in its own way, and I'm certain I've said this before, but WWII is probably the most significant of any because it shows us how evil mankind can truly be, and we mustn't forget that._

_ America: I try to remember things! But then I forget them. I guess they're just not important!_

_ England: I'd say it's because you're stupid._

_ America: Hey!_

_ Sachi: Ah, these two. Anywho, let's see here… _

_I used the Churchill quote above to help demonstrate his…love for Americans. Do not think me vain just because I am American! No, he seriously loved them, and Franklin Roosevelt was his best friend. These two were like, the original UkUs, UsUk, and no, I'm not saying they were homosexual. They just believed in moving forward together, since America and England share a history, a language, and ideas. _

_The Treaty of Versailles really did humiliate Germany so bad. That's where the Baltic States came from, actually. Germany had to give that land to Russia, who made some of it into the separate states Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia. Germany also had to give up control of their overseas colonies, The army was reduced, as were the naval bases, and he was not allowed an air force. The worst blow was the financial aspect of it, since the goal there seemed to be to make it impossible for Germany to rebuild an economy. _

_America did not ratify the treaty because the president at the time, President Woodrow Wilson, had his own plans for peace in his fourteen points, but was rejected. Personal animosities between him and Henry Cabot Lodge, among other things, made the U.S. refuse to ratify the treaty, and refuse to join the League of Nations, which was a horrible idea anyway._

_Also, I know Italy wasn't a complete idiot here, but that's because I'm not portraying him as such. I think it's best to keep him oblivious in some things, but not always. He has to be a little smart, guys! I mean, he's an artist! DX Anyway, review for love! You know you want it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_How's life, mah lovelies?! I've been super productive today, so I figured I'd end it with a little update for you! I'm working on this one since it's pretty easy to write, and not in as high demand as my other story right now. For those reading it, don't fret, it will be updated soon. Alright, so, yay! WWII! Let's get into it! I'll be time skipping a lot. Think back to CBLS, and how often we'd skip years and stuff. I probably won't skip years, but I'll skip a few months. But first, on to your love! __Quiet. Crash__, I try really hard to write England! Thank you so much for the kind words! __linklover88__, Zelda fan?! YAY! It's my first try writing them as countries! America will be back to his bubbly self in no time! __fiothepanda__, Italy must be smarter! Glad to have you along for the ride! On with the story!_

* * *

_The Revelation_

**_"In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happens, you can bet it was planned that way." –President Franklin D. Roosevelt_**

Italy felt uneasy. He was waiting at Germany's house for the blonde to return from a meeting he was called to earlier. Italy might not have been as smart as some of the other nations, but he knew when things did not seem to feel right. The entire country of Germany was now under control of the Nazi party, and the army was Adolf Hitler's to command. The redhead knew at that moment something bad was going to happen. Germany began having more and more secret meetings, and Italy saw less and less of him.

He was not trying to complain about being lonely. That was a problem for him, yes, but it was hardly the main topic on his mind. He had met Germany's new boss a while back, and he found himself terrified of the man. Fuhrer Adolf Hitler's eyes were cold and distant, yet seemed to have an erratic spark. His stare was one a madman might wear, and often times if he was looking in Italy's direction, the redhead thought the man was looking _through_ him. It would have proven foolish to speak ill of Germany's boss, so he kept quiet, and let Mussolini handle all negotiations. Nations were just there for decoration, after all. The humans would do what they wanted. He was involved in his country's politics, the same as every other nation was, but in the end, his opinion was only that, an opinion. Poor Italy was overlooked more often than not, and that was one reason he was so thrilled to be around Germany so much. But these days…

He was growing to fear Germany along with the rest of the world.

* * *

"America, will you _please_ hurry along?" England sighed exasperatedly at the younger nation.

"Eh? What's the rush?"

Instead of a response, England merely narrowed his brilliant emerald eyes at the man, and crossed the room to pull down a calendar from his wall. He returned to America, who was sill engrossed in his maps, and shoved the calendar in his face.

"Look at the circled date! We have a meeting today, you git!" The older nation hissed.

"We have meeting almost _every_ day. They're so boring. All that ever happens is you and France arguing, Russia being creepy quiet, China being all bossy and loud, and Canada disappearing when he wants."

"You forgot that you're much louder than any of us. Not to mention you normally make the arguments happen."

"Not where you and France are concerned. You've been arguing with him since you were born."

"Yes, well," England stated as he jumbled up America's maps and shoved them in his desk, "he was an idiot even back then. Now come on, would you? You're in my house after all. We need to discuss the plans to have your troops join mine here. It's only six days away now."

"I guess that's true…" the sandy blonde sighed, stretching as he stood up. "Then I'll officially be part of the war." He trailed off then, allowing himself to be lost in thought for a moment. He was eager to help out, but he still was not looking forward to combat itself. He remembered how weary he always felt during the Great War. He crawled in those trenches alongside England relentlessly, day in, and day out. Every day was spent dodging bullets, and wondering when they would be free to try and sleep.

But that was the way America had wanted it. He wanted to share his men's pain, sleep when they slept, eat when they ate. England had admired him for it, and stated he had been doing the same for centuries. Technically, as nations, they did not _have_ to fight in the battles themselves. France generally never fought with his troops, and no one could tell whether or not Canada did. Russia and China always fought with their men, as did Germany and Japan. Italy hardly ever did, because he had a tendency to get captured.

Even now, as America looked up at England, he could see the weariness of war on the nation. His bright eyes were hooded with fatigue, and his posture seemed to be worsening. Still, as always, England carried on as if he were perfectly fine due to stubbornness. It was something America had inherited from him.

The worst part about these wars for the younger nation to see was how much all the older countries seemed to enjoy them. European nations had been ripping each other apart since their creation, and would be doing so until their demise; he knew that. But seeing England act so…bloodthirsty was something he could never grow used to. Even France seemed to have an extra pep in his step these days. Canada, like America, was learning to bear with it, because neither of them had much choice. They had joined the United Nations the same as every other Allied country. This was their war too.

"Are you ready, love?" England asked, breaking him from his thoughts. America looked up to him, nodding as he stood up straight to allow himself to be lead outside. He could not stop his hand from finding England's, and clenching to find purchase. The older nation said nothing against it, as he never did. Truly, they understood each other in a way that words were not always needed.

Together, they were feared as much as they were respected.

* * *

The large room was full of very important members of the Nazi party. Germany had met all of them formerly, and was simply shaking hands as he walked beside Obergruppenfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich. Every hand was shook, and every salute was returned. Hitler was very adamant about such things. It was one of the reasons he was respected so much. They all took their seats, and waited for the meeting to begin.

Unlike most of the men there, Germany had no clue what was going on. Hitler did not tell him everything he was planning, because he said he feared betrayal. Germany was under strict orders not to share the information discussed in this meeting with anyone, including Italy or Japan. This was strictly a German affair.

Germany felt a stab of guilt every time he thought of Italy. The redhead's marvelous golden eyes seemed to be wide with fear more often than not these days. He did not know the exact reason, but he supposed it was the thought of war. He had told the smaller male he would protect him, but it seemed to do little to ease his fears.

The meeting began, and the men began talking to figure out the solution to the problem Germany did not know they were having.

"We are here to discuss…the final solution to the Jewish question in Europe and the Soviet Union."

* * *

_Sachi: Shit is about to go down!_

_ England: Everyone just needs…to sit down and drink tea._

_ America: Tea doesn't solve everyone's problems!_

_ England: Neither do hamburgers!_

_ Sachi: *sigh* Review for love! YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT! It's like…crack for your soul!_


End file.
